All the strippers at Dancers were ugly. I drank l 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 ll 12 Jack and diet cokes. The manager saidI had to leave. Fuck you, I just spent $150, my money’s not green here? I even tipped some random girl $100 to compensate for refusing to talk to any of them. Go away, I'm just looking for a little blonde girl. At every strip club there were girls who knew her, it was just a matter of time. Really sir, we're asking you to leave for your own safety. It's just that we notice you are on two wheels today. My R1 was out back. The shorty pipe, and the afterburner from the broken smog system was so loud and ridiculous, I could not come or leave without someone looking out the back door. I left. I'm not telling you to tell Mandi Jackson there is a drunk middle-aged psycho riding around looking for her on a black motorcycle. But I am telling you to tell Mandi Jackson there is a drunk middle-aged psycho riding around looking for her on a black motorcycle. It's like I brought my own sound track everywhere I went. I could be going 10 mph and every curve was the climax of an action movie. All I could hear was that unchanging incessant engine rising and falling, and oppressing my thoughts, as I rode up and down the empty roads. Semoran, Hofner, South Orange, Conway, Dixie Belle, Curry Ford. They were empty without a little angel blonde girl, spinning around and around and around in her BMW all day, like Alice in Wonderland. Where is Alice in Wonderland? Where is Alice in Wonderland? Where is Alice in Wonderland? Alice doesn't live here any more. Someone stole her, and has her tied up in a bed, behind a thousand doors and curtains. Someone stole her, and ﬂew her up to the clouds. Nevermore.